


The Letter

by MeredithBrody



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Episode Tag, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-04
Updated: 2013-08-04
Packaged: 2017-12-22 08:59:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/911357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MeredithBrody/pseuds/MeredithBrody
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the events of "Observer Effect" Trip tries to cheer up Hoshi, and listens to her fears.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Letter

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by my friend Ezzie, who wanted some Troshi when I told her I wanted to write. I'm still making up for the Chicken story.

He hated seeing her sitting alone, he always had, but now it seemed even sadder in a way. She had died a few hours ago. They’d both died, yet somehow they were both alive. That was sure to fuck with your mind. He’d thought he’d been dead before, he’d almost died more times than he could count, but as far as he knew this was her first real experience of it. He also knew that almost dying with someone gave you a bond that wasn’t easily broken.

So he sat beside her, knowing he didn’t have an appetite and somehow doubting that she had one either. She was just too polite to turn chef down when he was trying to make the ills of the universe better with his wonton soup. At least that was Trip’s guess at what was in the bowl in front of her. She was staring a little absent-mindedly at the PADD in front of her, and all Trip could tell from a quick glance was that it was probably Greek.

“I know you’re not hungry yet.” He said, trying to start the conversation in as positive a light as he could. When she turned to look at him it was like they were still in the decon chamber, she still looked as terrified as she had when they’d realised Phlox didn’t know how to cure them. He had tried to make light of the situation then, but maybe now it was time for them to have a private debrief. Get the worry off their chest. Remind one another that they had made it through. “I guess you couldn’t get to sleep either?”

“Technically, we had plenty of sleep.”

“We were dead, Hoshi. That doesn’t count, and it’s why Phlox wanted us to try and sleep. Come on.” He pulled her to her feet and started out of the mess hall toward her quarters. He knew that getting her into bed and maybe sitting with her and listening to her as she got things straight in her head was what he needed to do now.

“Then you should be asleep.” She said, but allowed him to continue guiding her along the corridors, not that she actually needed that, he was certain, but it felt nice to be helping, even if it was pretending.

“So should you.” He argued back, trying to make the point that sleep was good for them both, not just for him.

“I keep thinking about my letter.” She muttered, and all he could do was tare at her for a moment in the hope that she would clarify her meaning, but when she didn’t he felt that maybe it would be best to prompt her. He opened the door to her quarters and guided her through before sitting on the edge of her bunk.

“What letter?” He was genuinely confused, out of everything they had discussed in their 12 hour captivity in Decon, a letter was not something he remembered talking about. He was still thinking when Hoshi’s patience clearly ran out.

“The one you record for them to send to your parents when you die out here.” Her voice broke, and all he could do was pull her against his chest. He’d never been great at verbal support, but at least he could hold her until she felt a little better. She grabbed onto his uniform and held him tighter as she took a few deep breaths before continuing, a little steadier than before. “I just keep thinking about mine, which is so formal, it doesn’t say anything about how sorry I am that they are seeing this and how much I love them.” Hoshi shook her head as Trip let go, letting her sit back again. A second later she got up to pace, and all he could do was watch her and formulate a response.

“Hoshi, believe me. When your folks receive that recording, the last thing that will matter to them is what it says. Your voice will be enough.” He muttered, knowing that for a fact. His favourite thing to remind him of Lizzie was a recording of her doctorate thesis. He had watched it more times than he would care to admit, and he still didn’t know what she was saying

“You think?” She muttered, sitting beside him on the edge of the bed, obviously pacing beginning to tire her out. Not altogether surprising in the long run.

“I know. Trust me.” He pulled her against his chest again and held her tightly for a moment, trying to give her the confidence he already had. He just held her there, letting her calm down for a moment before he said anything again. “We survived, Hoshi. We’re still alive, both of us, and we’re here to see another day, and our parents won’t have to see those recordings. Let’s focus on that.” He smiled as he felt her nod against his chest. Neither of them making a move. He knew that right now, the tactile reminder that they had survived was enough, and he’d hold her every day like this if he needed.


End file.
